More Than He Appears

On Friday, I walk past Elias's room during lunch.

He sits at his desk, his green lunch bag zipped shut, his coat on inside out, his fingers near his mouth, he stares at something only he can see, his eyes above the heads of his classmates, who socialize and eat in small clumps. A new girl, with limited English, sits behind Elias eating alone.

I stand and watch him, for an eternity, a minute, before walking in. "Hey Bud, did you eat some lunch?"

He refocus his eyes from the elevator in his mind to me.

"Mom?" he smiles.

"Hey!" I bend down, put my hand on his head. "You hot? Let's take your coat off."

As I help him, a boy with braids I know from soccer says, "Is that your son, Ms. Christy?"

"Yes." I smile.

He nods his head and turns back to his card game.

Another kid, the first on the field to fake fall, pretend he's hurt, and put down others to cover his mistakes, the first to call someone names and then tell me when that kid retaliates, the one to gloat about his goals and come up with an excuse when his team loses, you know the kid, well he looks down at Elias, not that he's mush taller but, you know, he looked down from the top of his high-and-mighty eyes as if to say, "Him?"

He doesn't know I'm thinking: Oh shit, you're sitting next to him.

Elias is in a class with 26 "typical" kids. Not without their own challenges. Some have a Mom or Dad in jail. Some have been in and out of foster care. Some live with abusive parents. Some don't have food in their fridge.

Some have big egos.

I hang up Elias's coat, grab the other two that were left behind on previous days, and return to Elias's desk to unzip his lunch bag.

"I ate these," Elias holds up the empty bag of fruit chews. His sandwich remains untouched.

"You need to eat more Bud."

"Why do you have my rain coat?"

"Well, I thought I'd take it to my office and bring it home, so it doesn't get left here again and that way we're sure to have it for the weekend."

"Are you going home?"

"No," I lie.

I am.

I took a half day to meet with the Neuropsychologist to review Elias's tests.

Elias doesn't know this.

He doesn't know that after lunch Nick and I will sit across from the Dr.'s desk and listen as she describes Elias in terms. In numbers. In the results of tests. He doesn't know that I have done this so many times that I can hear a new label as access to services and not as a mark against my son. That I still break a little inside when I hear the words, "significantly impaired", but I don't let them define my boy.

He doesn't know that before I go to this meeting, I will walk home from school, walk past my eager dog who I had planned to run, and crawl into bed to bawl.

Because I just can't shake the image of Elias sitting alone at lunch in a crowded room.

And not alone like the new girl from South America eating Cup o Noodle at the desk behind him. But alone in the room.

Somewhere else.

In a world I can't access. Not fully.

I will cry and cry and think of calling people but cry instead.

Until I walk outside and pull the rain-sogged petals of pansies, stare at the dahlias just beginning to bloom, ground myself in the dirt of my backyard.

And carry on.

Comments

[Stacey]

Just love you so much & wish I could take away some of your rough times & make life easier for you!

[Lee]

You see Elias eating alone in the room. But you could see it from his point of view also. This is his time to decompress, take in his morning expeiences and concentrate on eating (which can be quite a process for kids on the spectrum). So he may be alone, but he is not lonely. And smile, he is content!!!!

[fleming]

I would have cried too. Don't all parents worry that their kid is eating alone? That is what always makes me feel better..knowing that I am not alone in this worry. I worry when my twelve year old doesn't want anyone to come and sleep over even when her instagram account is full of other girls having sleepovers together and mock photoshoots. Maybe she needs the down time. Maybe she wants to rest before her soccer game. I still worry though. I would have cried too. You are not alone in this.

[Kate]

Tearful here with you. Wish I lived close enough to come
share a beer or a run or whatever seems most helpful. Feel like I am experiencing some of this parenting heartbreak lately. Thinking of you.

[cheryl childers]

Dear, dear super mama. My heart aches for you and E & N & O. a mindful grownup in the room - whomever is in charge - could be more fully present and ensure no one eats alone... 3 cheers for E-boy who shares great enthusiasm, smiles and laughter and blesses me with his presence in health class.

[danielle]

Big hug. Hope the doctor's meeting was okay.

[Noel Dennehy]

Christy- your heart is so big- Elias is so lucky to have his family. He will survive because he is surrounded by so much love- it may not be the life you would have wanted for him- but it will be his life. The hardest thing for us parents is letting our children live THEIR lives because we know how much easier it would be if it was different. I was a super helicopter mom because our daughter broke her neck but she survived and is fine but during that time I took away her independence and it has taken her years to break away and finally be her true self. It is so hard to be a parent when we want to put a bandaid on everything when most of the time we can/ or should only watch. I blew it for my child but she still got through it and is now, at 26, blossoming and finally being so internally and outwardly successful. She contributes her latest success to a program called Landmark- not sure I have the name correctly. You and Nick are super parents and always will be because of who you are.
XOX

[Christy]

Lee, that is a very good point. He is most likely not lonely, it is more me who is lonely for him. And Noel, thank you for the reminder that his life will be different then the one I might have planned but it will be his.

And thank you all for feeling my tears and sharing your own worries and fears and just making me feel better with your words of support and love and understanding. I always feel less stressed after writing and then even better when I get comments like these.